


tender

by doggiegutz (pubbie)



Series: VENT BABY [4]
Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: Drabble, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:02:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pubbie/pseuds/doggiegutz
Summary: fucking hell idk what this shit is
Series: VENT BABY [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566463





	1. Chapter 1

Lambs, They are the lambs of mine slaughter house. Pitiful creatures awaiting their death, unaware of their fate they were granted upon being in this world.

Miniscule pawns, my blade meant to pierce their necks. I fear that what I think and do is wrong or flawed to others but I know it is not; I am but a godly figure devoid of worshipers. Yet it shan't be this way by the time I am finished.

The school bell chimes, traffic beeps, car engine growls and even the soft chew of food, all noises can become so infuriating; yet we can just learn to ignore them. Block out the infuriating sounds and hear the calmness.

I can't do that.

The sounds must be stopped, the lambs must be silenced. Their noisy chatted, shuffles and chews make my hands itch.

A powerful god I am; a powerful god I must be. I shall cause the sinners of mine slaughter house to feel true redemption. A momentary mortal purgatory resulting in an inescapable death.

I curse mine sinners to damnation.

They shall all fall, my blade on their neck; perhaps my godly hands. A gun, an axe, any tool I wish; I shall use them to dispose of these inconsiderate, ignorant lambs.

My pleasures shall by fufilled; my godly ones which call for blood and chaos to embrace each other in this dance of terrors. This celebration of nightmares shall take place in my godly hall.


	2. Chapter 2

  
My temple, mine worshipers lie here. Yet none alive, they lie dead. Grasping the arms of mine throne I sit up. The creaking of bones is loud yet relieving; temporarily that is. Perhaps I am not a being who is as godly as I had presumed, perhaps I am a sinner who must claim my fate.

Stumbling down the stairs, stumbling to join my damned masses. I shall join them in their deep, eternal sleep.

It is God's will; it is my will.


End file.
